


The Scorekeeper's Champion

by CelticRomulan, podracing-on-lothal (CelticRomulan)



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: A girl and her dog, Alien Rituals, Chiss (Star Wars), Chiss family dynamics, Dragons, Gen, Loth-wolves - Freeform, Lothal, Trandoshans (Star Wars), Wild Hunt, huge dog tiny girl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-07-08 04:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticRomulan/pseuds/CelticRomulan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticRomulan/pseuds/podracing-on-lothal
Summary: The Trandoshan festival of the Wild Hunt is in full swing. The reptilian hunters have chosen Lothal as their sacred hunting ground for two weeks, preceeding a double lunar eclipse--an auspicious sign, according to the Trandoshan religion. When the two moons align with their mother planet, the ritualistic hunt begins...Grand Admiral Thrawn, out of curiosity, observes the Trandoshan rites alongside his niece Nilana, who has taken a brief reprieve from the Ascendancy (though there is more than she is willing to admit), and his nephew Theos, who has been itching to reunite with his favorite uncle, even if it is for a little while. Trouble finds the Chiss grand admiral when a piece of his art collection turns out to be an artifact sacred to the Trandoshan goddess, the Scorekeeper, and it is up to the young Chiss cousins to set things right...





	1. Chapter 1

Baron Valen Rudor finished wiping the bar down. Curfew wasn’t for another hour or so, but business had been slow that evening. The only patrons of the former Old Jho’s Cantina were all congregated around the biggest table, where two aliens were holding a drinking contest. 

The two of them--a huge male Trandoshan and a female alien that Rudor guessed was a Pantoran--had been at it for nearly an hour and a half, and Rudor was beginning to worry that he was going to run out of Chandrilan single-malt whisky before the night was through. It would be another two weeks before the next shipment would come in. 

The cantina’s patrons, when then saw how long the contest was going on, were placing bets, howling excitedly whenever one of them pitched forward between shots, only to be disappointed when they sat up again. The alien woman was sweating profusely as she watched her adversary down another shot. The Trandoshan grinned wickedly as he set the tiny glass upside down on the table amidst raucous cheers. 

Then the blue-skinned woman picked up her next shot, brought it to her lips, and drank. She winced as she swallowed. Her head pitched forward as she reached up with her free hand to massage the bridge of her nose. When she didn’t sit back up, her audience began to trade credits. 

“ _Tzahtghyishd!”_ She barked as she sat back up. “ _Tzahtghyishd.”_ She flashed an equally, stupidy wicked grin back at the Trandoshan, reached forward with her empty shot glass, and proudly slammed it facedown on the table in front of her. 

More cantina patrons cheered excitedly. Rudor would never understand how a dinky little slip of a girl could drink that much and still be conscious. _Metabolism, perhaps_ , he thought. Lothal had an insanely diverse alien population; so much so, he could barely keep up with which aliens were which at this point. Even his boss, Grand Admiral Thrawn, was somewhat of a mystery to him. Rudor was about to wonder how much the Chiss grand admiral could drink before passing out when he saw the Trandoshan pick up the next glass and drink its contents. He barely had time to put the glass back down before falling backwards out of his seat. 

The woman stood, proudly taking her winnings from the pool of credits piled in the chair next to hers. She shouted something in an alien language Rudor didn’t recognize, to which many of the patrons cheered. One by one, each of them staggered out the door and into the night. 

The cantina was nearly empty when the woman approached the bar. It was then that Rudor noticed that her eyes were a glittering red. Just like Grand Admiral Thrawn’s. 

Red eyes, blue skin, black hair. So she was the same species, then. She was slender and stunning, built like a swimmer with holofilm-star hair and an intense, catlike gaze. 

She would have been a lot sexier if she wasn’t drunk. She staggered to the bar, counting her winnings before she took a seat right in front of Rudor. She leafed through a few credit vouchers and placed them on the bar between them. 

“For your trouble,” she slurred. “The next shipment comes in...what day is it?”

“Two weeks,” Rudor said sharply. “Chandrilan whisky doesn’t come cheap, Miss.” 

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who challenged him,” the woman said. “You know how the Trandoshans have been for the past week. This whole ‘Wild Hunt’ thing...it’s a big deal.” 

Rudor took the credit vouchers and pocketed them. At least she was gracious enough to pay for the next shipment of booze from Chandrila. 

“I don’t believe I got your name,” he said. 

The Chiss woman quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward. “You can’t possibly pronounce my name in your tongue, Baron,” she purred. 

Flirting it was, then. “Try me,” he said. “If I can understand Shyriiwook, chances are I can speak your language too.” 

“It’s--”

“NILANAAA!!” 

The entrance door slammed open to admit a trio of tall figures, two of them Trandoshan, the other an unknown being with a pillowcase over his head and his hands tied behind his back.

“Oh good, yer still open!” one of the Trandoshans said. He grabbed the other man and frog-marched him inside. 

“Hullo, Prassk,” Rudor sighed in annoyance. 

“I did it,” the Trandoshan said. “I did it! Sshaaga and I, we bagged Grand Admiral Thrawn! Now pay up like ya promised!” 

The Chiss woman sat up with an alarmed expression on her face. 

“And three...two...one--” the pillowcase came off. “Ta-daaa!” 

There was an awkward silence. “That is not Thrawn,” the Chiss woman said. 

It was another Chiss, all right, but he looked almost nothing like Thrawn. His facial features were noticeably softer, his hair was a bit longer, and he stood at least a head shorter than the grand admiral. A thick strip of adhesive tape covered his mouth; the only protests he was able to make were muffled grunts. 

“Whatchu talking about, Nilana? That’s him! He’s wearing the uniform.” 

“Sorry guys, that’s not my uncle. He’s too fat.” 

That prompted indignant grunting from the other Chiss. Rudor couldn’t help but notice the glassy-eyed expression...apparently this guy had been out drinking too. 

“That’s a commodore’s rank badge...and it’s on upside-down.” 

One of the two hunters reached around and yanked the adhesive strip off the Chiss’s face. 

“Aaaaaghh! You idiots! What did I tell you!” the Chiss shouted. “Nilana, what’s going on?” 

“That’s what happens when you go out drinking, bragging and pretending to be our uncle, Theos,” Nilana scolded as she untied his wrists. “Come on, let’s go home. It’s almost curfew. We don’t want you getting arrested for that on top of impersonating an officer.” 

Valen Rudor watched as the two Chiss staggered out, with the two grumbling Trandoshans in tow. 

This was going to be a very long week. 


	2. Chapter 2

**** “I hate those creatures.”

Thrawn adjusted the kalikori’s position on its pedestal. This was the third time today that Governor Arihnda Pryce had come to his office to complain about the Trandoshan festivities. Two weeks of those lizards doing nothing but hunting all day and partying all night. That was a good chunk of Lothal’s mining operations with no workers! And what was worse, Lothalians everywhere were getting swept up into it! This will not do! She had kept saying.

“Are you listening to me, Grand Admiral?”

“Of course I am, Governor,” Thrawn said calmly. “Though I find your complaints are only a repeat of what you reported to me over an hour ago.”

The Chiss was certain the residents in the next town over could hear Pryce’s teeth grinding. “So you intend to do...nothing?” she hissed. “This was your idea, to allow for those filthy lizards to have their little...festival.”

“Governor,” Thrawn purred, “The Festival of the Wild Hunt is the Trandoshans’ most sacred holiday. I would be remiss to prevent them from celebrating. Many of them have been embarking on rites of passage--”

“They’ve been engaging in every destructive behavior from bar fights to straight-up riots, Admiral,” Pryce said. “They’re disturbing the peace in ways that make Coruscant look tame in comparison! Also, might I remind you that mining operations are behind schedule because half of the workforce isn’t showing up for work?!”

“And might I remind you, Governor, that most of the Trandoshans within your mining operations work as security guards, not actual miners?”

“My point is...” Pryce took a moment to compose herself. “Most of the locals are getting involved too. They’re causing too much trouble. We have rebels to hunt down offworld, and you’re hosting a two-week long party.” 

Thrawn wasn’t going to grace that remark with a response. The local city commissioner of Jhothal—idiot that he was—was the actual person behind the approval of the festivities. The man never realized they were going to last two weeks and involve a massive influx of freeloaders from Trandosha who were only here to hunt, drink, and dance in the streets.

Such was the habit of humans. They were so short-sighted.

In spite of the confusion, Thrawn was genuinely intrigued by the Trandoshan festivities. The Wild Hunt was an ancient and highly sacred event that was only observed every ten years. Typically, the festival fell on a week preceeding a lunar eclipse, with the titular hunt held on the final night of the festivities. It was the perfect time of year for young Trandoshans’ rites of passage too, if Thrawn wasn’t mistaken, and Lothal’s wildlife was perfect for their ceremonial hunts.

What was left of it, at least. The uptick in doonium mining in the past year and a half had several environmental lobby groups angry, and Pryce’s only solution to that problem was to just arrest them. Either way, the ever-growing scarcity in big game on Lothal had become quite tempting for hunters all over the galaxy. Thrawn had seen Trandoshan hunters parading their kills around town every day now; massive boar and elk in particular, with the occasional Loth-wolf, long thought to be extinct.

“If you have a problem with it,” Thrawn said finally, “I suggest you complain to the city council about it. Make arrests if you think that will solve it. I’m sure the local garrison has a few extra stormtrooper squadrons to spare. Goodness knows another firefight in the streets is just what Lothal needs right now.”

Pryce blanched. “No...of course not, Grand Admiral. I was only--”

Thrawn’s commlink chirped. “Go ahead,” he said, cutting Pryce’s excuse short. 

It was Commodore Faro. “Sir, your Trandoshan contact has arrived. He...brought friends with him. Shall I send an escort with them?”

“Yes, Commodore, please do,” Thrawn said. He didn’t want the Trandoshans making trouble on their journey from the hangar to his office. It was a rather long walk through the Imperial Dome.

Pryce glared at him. “And one more thing,” she said. “I understand your niece is in town as well.”

“That is correct.”

“May I ask what for?”

Thrawn gazed at Pryce with renewed interest. Something different to occupy the governor’s attention at last. “Am I not permitted to enjoy the company of my own family on occasion, Governor?” he asked archly. He was very well aware of Pryce’s jealousy of Nilana. The thought of a woman as powerful as the governor of Lothal feeling threatened by a young, meek Chiss minstrel was an enigma and an endless source of amusement to him. He watched as Pryce’s ears flushed a deep red from embarrassment.

“If it makes you feel any better, Arihnda,” he added, watching as her body heat bloomed in her chest at the sound of him using her first name, “She will only be here on Lothal for a few days. She will be gone before you know it.”

Pryce fumed. “Just make sure you keep her—and those two other Chiss with her—on a short leash,” she said coldly. “They were causing trouble last night at Baron Rudor’s establishment. The male Chiss with her was impersonating you.”

“And doing a poor job of it,” Thrawn said. “I have already disciplined my nephew, Governor. You needn’t worry yourself with him. Or the girls, for that matter.”

“If nothing else, I would rather the three of them stay out of my way,” Pryce said. “I have no patience for freeloaders.”

“As you wish, Governor,” Thrawn said.

It was then that the doors to Thrawn’s office opened. A trio of Trandoshans stepped inside, accompanied by Commodore Faro and a small cadre of stormtroopers.

“Tamuz!” Thrawn smiled as he recognized the largest of the three. 

“Thrawn, ya red-eyed ssson of a bitch!” the Trandoshan exclaimed. “Look at you!” He cackled as he and Thrawn grabbed each other’s shoulders. Thrawn braced himself as Tamuz grinned maniacally at him, and then headbutted him. 

“Governor Pryce, Commodore...could you excuse us for a few minutes?” Thrawn said, shaking his head to clear the stars from his vision. Pryce scowled as she and Faro left Thrawn’s office. 

“It’s been too long,  _ ghrakhowsk _ ,” Tamuz grunted. “Where the hell have ya been? Livin’ like a godsdamned king, it looks like.” He clicked his claws against one of the gold bar epaulets on Thrawn’s shoulders. 

“It has only been two years, old friend,” Thrawn said. “I would hardly call that a long time. I take it you’re here for the Wild Hunt?” 

“Aye, an’ to bring my sons with me as well.” Tamuz motioned to the two younger Trandoshans lurking in the doorway. “That ‘un there,” he said, pointing to the stockier of the two, “that there’s Prassk, my eldest. He’s the one I told yeh about last we met. Already gone through the trials, that one. An’ the other one,”--he pointed to the taller, skinnier one-- “That’s me younger son, Shha’aga. The Wild Hunt’s gonna be his Comin’ of Age trials.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Thrawn acknowledged them. As the two young Trandoshans murmured their greetings back to him, he could not help but notice an underlying hint of embarrassment. The one called Shha’aga gargled something in his native language to Prassk, who grimaced and looked away, consciously trying to look interested in one of the art pieces scattered around Thrawn’s office. 

“Ah, you must forgive Prassk,” Tamuz said. “He got in a bit o’ trouble with yer son last night.” 

“My nephew,” Thrawn corrected him. “And yes, I understand he mistook him for me.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Trying to prove his worth as a hunter, no doubt. But keep in mind that I do not normally partake in...drinking and socializing among civilians as my nephew does. Prassk ought to take the time to learn more about his chosen prey before he captures the wrong being next time.” 

Prassk hissed and bared his teeth at Thrawn. Clearly, he didn’t like being lectured by an alien.  _ If you only knew how much I actually know of your people _ , Thrawn thought. 

“Yeh see, boys?” Tamuz said. “This man here, he’s one of the smartest hunters this side of Trandosha. Don’t yeh forget it.” 

“I’m sure your Scorekeeper is willing to waive your mistake, Master Prassk,” Thrawn said reassuringly. “After all, you did catch my nephew successfully. Had he been out in the open any longer dressed like me, he would not have been so lucky if he were arrested for impersonating an Imperial officer.” 

“Speakin’ o’ which,” Tamuz added, “There’s a feast goin’ on at the hunters’ pavilion outside o’ town. That’s why I’m here. I, uh...might have vouched fer ya a little too strongly, ‘cause you, Thrawn, yer the guest of honor.” 

Thrawn’s smile disappeared. “I’m...flattered, Tamuz,” Thrawn said, “but I would prefer to get an invitation in writing.” 

“Already taken care of,” Tamuz said. “Miss Faro got the official invite. One fer you, an’ whoever else yer bringin’ with yeh. Tsolkhar says, the more the merrier.” 

“Tsolkhar?” 

“The chieftain hosting the feast. His hunting party just bagged an enormous Loth-boar yesterday. Paraded it around town this morning. After talking his ears off about yeh, he wants teh meet ya pretty bad.” 

“I’m sure he does,” Thrawn mused. “I would be honored to attend, Tamuz.” 

Tamuz cackled again. “Yeh’ll never regret this, Thrawn. Yer in for a treat.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**** The prairie grass felt cool beneath Nilana’s bare feet as she followed her uncle to the Trandoshans’ pavilion. Their reptilian hosts had insisted in their invitation that all attendees must be barefoot for the occasion. 

Thrawn had invited her, along with Theos and Siri, to attend the Trandoshans’ banquet with him. Theos was still a bit sulky from the previous night...after he and Nilana had returned from their night on the town, Thrawn proceeded to lecture them about how bad of an example the two of them were setting for Siri, and how their behavior was a poor reflection of the Chiss people, and so on and so forth. 

Her uncle hadn’t changed a bit since she had last seen him. He was still as long-winded and dull to listen to, as always, and perpetually disappointed in her. 

She didn’t care. Her uncle had all but forced her to “rejoin” her people in the Ascendancy.  _ For your safety _ , he had said, time and time again. 

The Chiss Ascendancy was hardly any better than the Empire, in Nilana’s opinion. Her mother’s family, House Mitth, were initially warm and welcoming...until she unintentionally revealed her Force abilities to a group of children. Apparently, her father’s side of the family wasn’t much liked by the nobility either; House Fion had a reputation for siring what most Chiss called  _ Russ’ercen _ . Witches. Force-sensitives whose powers never faded, and whose abilities were passed down to each child, regardless of gender, regardless of lineage, and regardless of whether they wanted such abilities or not. And such abilities, in the hands of someone of power and influence, would have been extremely dangerous to the Ascendancy as a whole. Such people were looked upon with suspicion and contempt, if not downright fear and hatred. 

Nilana had tried to find comfort in her father’s family...what was left of it, at least. Her father was the only heir to House Fion’s name when he was still alive. When she presented herself to her grandmother, Fion’nuala’nuruodo, it was as if Empire Day had come early. House Fion had an heir once more. 

But it had placed her in the spotlight, something she had been hoping to avoid after leaving her mother’s family on Copero. 

Before she and Eli Vanto had departed for the Ascendancy, Thrawn gave the two of them his blessing for betrothal. He had been watching their relationship blossom over the months Nilana had spent aboard the Chimaera a little too closely for comfort, but at least it assured her that her uncle approved of the two of them pursuing a romance. 

But things had changed, and Nilana no longer felt safe among her own people. Her foster family was gone, her heart was broken, and her only friends now were her cousin Theos, and a mysterious young navigator from House Hess, one of House Mitth’s vassal families. The two of them insisted on accompanying her on her journey back to Imperial space...no Chiss, they’d said, should ever travel alone. 

And here she was on Lothal, a seemingly backwater planet in the Outer Rim, once again surrounded by familiar aliens: Twi’leks and Rodians, Mirialans and Humans, the occasional Aqualish and Ithorian…

...And of course, the Trandoshans. 

It didn’t surprise Nilana in the least that the Trandoshans held her uncle in high regard. Thrawn had really made a name for himself over the past few months, rooting out rebel cells all over the sector in places most human officers couldn’t. A true hunter, and a relentless one at that. 

Which was why her uncle--now a Grand Admiral--was the guest of honor at the Trandoshan festivities tonight. 

“Do keep up, Siri,” Thrawn scolded the twelve year-old Chiss girl lagging behind her. The little girl was absolutely mesmerised by the sight of Lothal’s wide open prairies, dotted here and there by windswept stone pillars, beneath the expansive, sparkling dome of the night sky. Nilana heard the grass crunch beneath Siri’s bare feet as she sprinted to rejoin them. 

“The sky…” Siri whispered to Nilana, “I’ve never seen it like this. Not even on Csilla or Copero!” 

“We’ll be seeing more of it later,  _ sestra _ . It’s not wise to wander off alone here.” The chill Nilana felt whenever she was in Arihnda Pryce’s presence was warning enough. Somehow she suspected that the governor knew her secret. She could only imagine how Siri felt whenever the human woman looked her way. 

“YOU!!”

Nilana and the others stopped short as a Trandoshan stepped out in front of them. She immediately felt Siri grab her hand. 

“Who comessss before the ssshrine of the Sssscorekeeper?” The Trandoshan guard hissed as he drew a vibroblade and brandished it at Thrawn. 

“I am Mitth’raw’nuruodo. Grand Admiral of the Seventh Fleet, and honored guest of Chieftain Tsolkhar. I come to pay my respects, and I bring guests with me per the Chieftain’s suggestion.”

The Trandoshan guard harrumphed as he gave Thrawn and the rest of the Chiss each a once-over. “You may proceed,” he growled after checking to make sure everyone was unarmed and shoeless. 

“Thrawn! There yeh are!” A massive Trandoshan approached them with his big, beefy arms outspread. “So glad yeh could come,  _ ghrakhowsk _ !” He grabbed Thrawn in a bear hug.

“Oof! Tamuz! Yes!” Thrawn laughed as the Trandoshan lifted him a few inches off the ground. Nilana had never seen her uncle laugh before. And by the expression on Theos’s face, neither had he. 

“Ghrakhowsk?” Theos asked. 

“A life debt,” Thrawn explained after Tamuz released him. “I...inadvertently saved Tamuz’s life during a skirmish on Kashyyyk. Needless to say, his skills as a tracker and hunter proved surprisingly beneficial to the mission.” 

“Aye, summat most Imperials don’ appreciate,” Tamuz grinned. “I take it these here Chisses are yer family?” 

“Yes,” Thrawn said. “You already know my nephew, Mitth’eos’safis.” 

“Ah, I can see the resemblance,” Tamuz said. “No wonder my sons mistook yeh fer the Grand Admiral.” 

Nilana saw her cousin wince in embarrassment. “Pleasure,” he said quietly. 

“My niece, Fion’ilana’nuruodo,” Thrawn said, placing his hand on Nilana’s shoulder. 

“Ah, so you are the lovely Nilana my sons spoke of yesterday,” Tamuz purred. “Prassk certainly was not exaggeratin’ when he called you the Flower of Jhothal.” 

Nilana felt her face burn up. She still wasn’t used to getting complimented for her beauty by complete strangers. Especially not a lizard-alien. Taking such compliments from her own people was a culture shock in and of itself! 

“An’ what’s yer name, little one?” Tamuz asked as he moved on to Siri. 

Thrawn translated for her, to which she said, “Hess’iri’nuruodo...er, Siri.” 

“See-ree, eh?” Tamuz said. “Like the famous Bothan explorer?” 

Thrawn mussed Siri’s hair. “She wouldn’t know who that is,” he said. 

Tamuz grunted. “Well, enough about you. Let me get yeh to yer seats. Tsolkhar’s been itchin’ to meet yeh all day.” 

~~~ 

The banquet was held in a massive, open-air pavilion. The Trandoshans had dug a trench about waist-deep down the center of the floor, where a roaring fire was currently being stoked. Long, low tables lined each side, ending at a raised dais at the far end. Several guests were already seated; Nilana was surprised to see a few humans and other aliens sitting amidst the Trandoshan guests. Some of them deep in conversation, while others sat silently, nervously taking in their surroundings. 

Most of the conversations stopped when the guests noticed Thrawn and the rest of the Chiss enter. 

Tamuz loudly growled something in his native language. A tall, equally beefy Trandoshan stood up from his seat on the dais, and approached them. This one was decked out in elaborately-painted and embossed leather garments, with a shaggy fur cloak pinned at his shoulder with a brooch wrought to resemble a boar’s head. 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn, may I present Tsolkhar, Hunt Master and Chieftain of the Gullinbursti Tribe.” 

The chieftain leaned in and took a sniff. He reached forward and poked Thrawn’s shoulder. “You Thrawn?” he growled in a heavily accented voice. “ _ You _ Thrawn? Him who break rebellion at Atollon?” He cocked his head and eyed the Grand Admiral as if he were appraising a priceless gemstone. 

Suddenly, the Trandoshan chieftain threw his head back and laughed. He turned to Tamuz and gargled something in his native language, gesturing between him and Thrawn. 

“The chieftain says he wasn’t expecting a...non-human with such a high military rank,” Tamuz translated. “Non-human as a hunter he can understand, but...he’s having a hard time believing you’re a soldier, too.” 

Tsolkhar guffawed some more before clapping an enormous hand over Thrawn’s shoulder. “Come. Esteemed Warrior-Hunter sit with Tsolkhar. Guests sit at honored seats near front.” He pointed at a row of empty seats just below the dais as he all but dragged Thrawn to his own seat. 

Nilana could not help but laugh at the sight of her uncle getting manhandled by a lizard-man a good head and a half taller than himself. 

“You would think these guys would know what Uncle Thrawn looks like,” Theos muttered as he sat cross-legged on the cushion that served as a chair to the low tables. “I mean, he’s the only non-human in the Imperial Navy to reach the rank of Grand Admiral.” 

“Not everyone is plugged into the holonet, Theos,” Nilana reminded him as she adjusted her posture in her own seat. “Things are different in this part of the galaxy.” 

“What’s at Atollon?” Siri asked. 

“Uncle Thrawn routed a massive rebel cell there. It was...kind of a long, slow-burn campaign.” 

Siri leaned forward in her seat to get a better look at Thrawn. Nilana noticed that the girl was eyeing her uncle with that telltale look of admiration as Tsolkhar introduced him to the rest of the hall in Dosh. The chieftain then turned to whisper something to a smaller Trandoshan who scurried out of the pavilion. 

“He says it’s an honor to have you here to celebrate the Festival of the Wild Hunt with us, Thrawn,” Tamuz translated. “He hopes you will join him in leading the Hunt itself when Lothal’s moons come together at the end of this most joyous week.” 

Thrawn respectfully bowed his head to the chieftain. “Hunt Master Tsolkhar,” he said, “I would be honored to join you in the Wild Hunt when the time comes.” 

Every Trandoshan in the pavilion leaped from their seats, snarling and roaring, cheering and applauding at Thrawn’s acceptance. Such an esteemed warrior to join them! 

_ Governor Pryce was going to be so mad! _

Music played as a handful of younger Trandoshans stepped into the pavilion, carrying massive trays laden with food. Haunches of Loth-elk and boar meat, still sizzling from the cookfire pits outside; skewers of braised prairie chicken with roasted vegetables. Nilana’s mouth was watering as one of the servants showed her the full spread of meats--fresh kills from today’s hunts, no doubt. She opted for a little of everything for herself, Theos, and Siri. 

Flagons of mead, wine, and beer were passed around as well. Siri stared dubiously as Nilana and Theos helped themselves to some Trandoshan mead. 

“Ah, a youngling,” one of the servers said as he spotted the Chissling gawking at her cup. “Perhaps something a little less, ah...deleterious?” 

Siri gratefully accepted a steaming cup of fragrant tea from the server. She took a long drink, savoring it as she swallowed. “Nilana…” she said, “You need to try this. Can you order a whole pot?” 

~~~ 

Nilana took a moment to gaze about the pavilion. Of the non-Trandoshan guests, she recognized a few faces; some of them she knew from passing glances as Imperial officers who worked for her uncle in some capacity or another. Many of them, like her, seemed to be enjoying themselves. She had taken some time to mingle with them whenever she got the chance to stretch her legs. A few of them chatted with her, but she was certain they would not have done so without the help of a little booze to loosen the tongue. 

Vult Skerris, one of Thrawn’s best pilots, was in attendance tonight. He was in a very animated discussion with another human when he spotted Nilana and called her over. 

“Miss Nilana, tell this tom-fool of a commodore that the TIE Defender can outstrip his Interceptors any day.” He reeked of alcohol.

“Uhh…” 

Nilana had heard of her uncle’s TIE Defender project, but never actually saw the starfighter in person, much less seen it in action. 

“Bah, never mind,” Skerris barked. “I’ve been meaning to ask your uncle. He said something about your...male friend who came with you? Said something about him being an accomplished pilot?” 

“Who, Theos?” Nilana asked. “He’s a...decent pilot. I wouldn’t be so quick to call him Ace material. He’s not a starfighter pilot, if that’s what you’re asking. Did you talk to him?” 

“Did I? Your friend is quite the braggart,” Skerris said. “I would like to see for myself if he is what he says he is. The Defenders need good pilots, and they’re in rather short supply out here. The joint chiefs are thinking of having us recruit aliens into our ranks as pilots…” 

Nilana felt someone grab her wrist. She turned to see Siri tugging at her sleeve. 

“Look!” she whispered, gesturing toward the far end of the pavilion. Conversations suddenly ceased as a robed figure with a tall wooden staff stepped towards the dais. The being removed its hood, revealing an ancient Trandoshan, its face festooned with tattoos. 

Tsolkhar growled in Dosh, and genuflected before the newcomer. 

“It’s a shaman,” Nilana heard Prassk explain to one of the guests. “She’s supposed to be the herald of the Scorekeeper herself!” 

The shaman said something in a grating, raspy voice, to which Tsolkhar growled back, pointing to Thrawn. 

“A champion?” Prassk translated. “Da said nothin’ about naming Thrawn a champion!” 

Nilana turned to Prassk and whispered, “What do you mean by champion?” 

“At each Wild Hunt,” Prassk explained quietly to her, “the shaman chooses a hunter from her tribe who has racked up enough jagganath points from his kills to lead the entire tribe in the ceremonial hunt at the end of the festival. It’s supposed to be the greatest honor a Trandoshan can be granted in his or her lifetime! But to appoint an alien as the Scorekeeper’s Champion is super-rare! Sounds like Chief Tsolkhar must’ve thought your uncle to be badass enough to earn it.” 

Nilana watched as the shaman hobbled up to Thrawn. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, as she had to crane her neck to meet the tall Chiss’s eyes. She motioned for Thrawn to lean in so she could get a better look at his face. After a minute or two of an awkward staring contest, the shaman snarled harshly at Tsolkhar, pointing accusingly at Thrawn. The chieftain indignantly roared back, only to be silenced by the shaman’s gesture to be silent. After a somewhat lengthy conversation in Dosh, the shaman seemed to relent, though reluctantly. 

“What did she say?” 

“She said she will consider your uncle,” Prassk said, “but that won’t mean she’ll select him. Something about him owing us something...your uncle didn’t pull some weird stunt during his mission on Kashyyyk, did he? Rules-lawyered a treaty or something?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nilana said. To be quite honest, she had no idea what Thrawn had done on Kashyyyk, aside from accidentally saving Tamuz’s life and getting landed with a life debt. 

_ She would have to ask her uncle about it afterward... _


End file.
